


gift horse

by smolstiel



Series: Boyking!Sam Drabbles [21]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Demon Blood, Demon Blood Addict Sam Winchester, Gen, Sam Winchester on Demon Blood, Scary Sam Winchester, at least at first, dean is surprisingly ok with things, im running out of titles imma need to compile some or something i guess, ive been on this site for years & i still dunno how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 17:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21122270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolstiel/pseuds/smolstiel
Summary: PROMPT: Demons form a cult around Sam. Dean finds the whole thing rather hilarious. Sam, not so much.Written for the Boyking!Sam Discord server.





	gift horse

**Author's Note:**

> if youre reading this & you havent joined the boyking sam discord server yet youre really missing out my dude 
> 
> https://discord.gg/gnQTBrA

There was a demon loitering outside their motel room. Dean had a mile-wide smirk as he pulled in, gesturing to the conspicuous form. “You think he’s brought you a dead squirrel again?” 

Sam ignored Dean’s complaints as he shut the car door with too much force. He was caked in sweat and grave dirt and all he wanted was a shower. “I told you creeps, I don’t want your sacrifices.” 

The demon, for his credit, seeing as he was facing down the object of his worship, was more or less unmoved. “I brought you something more palatable this time.” He held up a bag of fast food, soaked with grease, but still piping hot. 

“You call that palatable?” Sam snarked, but a glance back at Dean had him sighing and snatching away the bag. He thrust it into his brother’s arms, a shitty apology for slamming the door. “Now get lost,” he snapped, and pushed into the motel room. 

He didn’t even look back as he locked himself in the bathroom, avoiding his own gaze in the mirror. 

…

“What have you been telling them?” Sam hissed into the phone. “Every time we go somewhere new, there’s always something. Hell, this time there was a damn fruit basket!” He took a quick glance into the diner window. Dean was flirting with the waitress, he still had time. 

_“Orange you glad it wasn’t covered in blood?”_ came Ruby’s reply. She was pleased with herself, and Sam growled. 

“Look. I’m not interested. No more fancy soaps, no more free pizza deliveries. Let’s stop the seals, kill Lillith, and be done with it. Okay?” Another quick glance, and Sam had to take a second one just because he wasn’t expecting Dean to be getting a damn lapdance already. “I’ve gotta go,” he said, and hung up on her. 

The door blared out one of those convenience store _ding-dongs,_ and Dean and the waitress both looked up at him. The waitress had black eyes and Dean had a great big grin. “Sam? I think this king of the demons thing is working out pretty damn well.” 

Sam suddenly considered that maybe keeping Ruby a secret wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever done. 

…

Rugarus were nasty business, and when Dean quit answering calls, Sam was starting to panic. He’d looked everywhere, there was nowhere left to fucking look. There was nothing left to do. Well. There was one thing. He had to close his eyes and take a few deep breaths before he made a rash decision. He was definitely going to regret this. He dialed the phone. 

“If I have any, uh, devotees in the area, can someone come look for Dean?” he asked Ruby. Her characteristically smug answer made Sam want to bite her tongue off. 

An hour and a half later, Dean was deposited on his doorstep. His clothes were torn and his head was bleeding, but he was alive, and he was smiling wanly. Sam grabbed him and pulled him inside. “Thank you,” he told the demon, and shut the door in their face. 

Dean sat down heavily on the bed, blowing out a breath. “Too busy to come look for me yourself?” he asked. It was a tease, but it fell like a gavel. 

“I could have left you to die,” Sam said matter-of-factly, and felt strangely vindicated at the flash of fear in Dean’s eyes. 

…

Sam had waited until Dean had left for a quick grocery trip before he gave in and started pacing. He called Ruby for the seventh time. “Where are you?” he bit out. “Call me or I’ll find you myself.” He flung the cell against the wall in a temper, and gripped the roots of his hair, just trying to hold himself together. 

God. He was so hungry. 

There was a knock at the door. Sam flung it open with abandon. “What?” he snapped, and then got hit full in the face with the scent of sulfur. A woman was standing there, black eyes glittering, and three men behind her. “Ruby sent us,” she said. “A gift for you, your Majesty.” 

He didn’t waste time on a decision. “Come inside.” 

… 

Dean knew when he got back to the motel that something was wrong. Something in the air, it felt off. He cautiously stepped onto the sidewalk, one hand on his knife. The door was ajar and the salt line was cut. Not just messed with, but carefully split into two lines. He nudged his way inside, and stopped dead. Sam was curled up with a man. At first glance Dean thought they were necking, but then he saw the three bodies on the floor. 

He blanched. “Sam —” 

And then the wild eyes came up to meet his, a hand was flung out, and Dean shouted as he was wrenched backwards. He slammed against the wall, fumbling with his knife, and tried to get his breath back. 

Then Sam seemed to blink back to himself. Dean’s back slid down the wall. “You startled me.” 

And Dean didn’t even know what the fuck to say to that. 

… 

“Let’s take a walk,” Sam suggested. It had been tense since Dean had caught him doing … well, _that_ … but things had settled down somewhat. Dean wasn’t exactly heaping him with praise, but he wasn’t angry anymore. 

Dean licked his finger and bookmarked his Vonnegut. “Sure.” 

So they walked. And Dean couldn’t help but notice the stares, the whispers. This was a small town, but big enough that strangers weren’t unheard of. They even blended in, it was autumn and half of the town was buzzing about deer season. So why were eyes following them? 

Then he started to be sure they were being followed. First it was just one, then two, eyes intent and not even trying to hide it. “Uh, Sam,” he began, about to bring it up, but his brother smiled. 

“I know. We’re going to have a lot more before too long.” 

So Dean said nothing, even as the tails grew from a few stragglers to a small crowd. Sam took the steps up to a church, and paused at the door. Their followers watched from the foot of the stairs, spread out in a U-shaped arc. 

“I need power,” Sam said, and five of them came to him willingly. 

Dean swallowed and turned away. “This isn’t what I wanted for you,” he said, and sucked in a gasp when Sam’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, forced him to turn and look. 

“I think this king of the demons thing is working out pretty damn well,” he said. 

“Sammy,” Dean begged. 

Sam’s eyes flashed yellow, and Dean bit back a scream. “I’m going to go in there and I’m going to kill Lilith,” he said. His voice was strangely soft. “And you are going to get out of my way.” 

Dean glanced around. Hundreds of beady black eyes stared back at him. “Are you going to kill me?” he asked. 

Sam smirked. “You’re finally asking the real questions.” And he disappeared inside the cathedral.


End file.
